Million Dollar Baby

by Janice Maynard

  “My God.”

  Rose stared at him, her eyes filled with something close to hatred and loathing. Or maybe it was simply grief. “Go, Augustus. We’ll continue our plan to keep Daniel and Alexis apart. But please don’t come to my house again.”

  * * *

  Somehow Brooke managed to work on her mural hour after hour without passing out or giving up, but it wasn’t easy. The episode with her mother had upset her deeply. She felt wretched. Even now, her legs trembled and her stomach roiled. Her life was a damned soap opera. Why couldn’t her family be normal and boring?

  She paused in the middle of the day to eat the peanut butter sandwich she had packed for her lunch. The club had a perfectly wonderful restaurant, but dining there would have meant changing out of her paint-stained clothes, and Brooke simply didn’t have it in her today. So she sat on the ground with her back to the wall and ate her sandwich in the shade.

  She half hoped Austin would show up to keep her company. But clearly, he was very busy with the new project. She saw him at a distance a time or two. That was all.

  On the one hand, it was good that he didn’t hover. She would have hated that. She was a grown woman. Still, she’d be lying if she didn’t say she was looking forward to their picnic.

  By the time she finished a section at three thirty and cleaned her brushes, she was wiped out. Today’s temperature had been ten degrees above normal for mid-October. It was no wonder she was dragging. And she had forgotten to wear sunscreen. So she would probably have a pink nose by the end of the day.

  She stashed her supplies in her car, changed out of her work clothes into a cute top and jeans, and went in search of Austin. Her palms were damp and her heart beat faster than normal. The last time the two of them had spent any amount of time together, they’d been naked.

  Despite that anomaly, they really were little more than strangers. Perhaps if she treated this picnic as a first date, she could pretend that she hadn’t propositioned him in a bar and made wild, passionate love to the handsome cowboy.

  That was probably impossible, given the fact that she trembled every time he got close to her.

  She rounded a corner in the gardens and ran straight into the man who occupied her tumultuous thoughts.

  He steadied her with two big hands on her shoulders. “Slow down, honey. I was just coming to find you.”

  She wiggled free, trying not to let him see how his touch burned right through her. “Here I am. Shall we swing by the corner market and pick up a few supplies for our picnic?”

  Austin took her elbow and steered her back inside the club, down the corridor and out the front door. “I’ve already got it covered,” he said. “I called the diner and had them make us a basket of fried chicken and everything to go with it.”

  Brooke raised an eyebrow. “I’m impressed.” The Royal Diner was one of her favorite places for good old-fashioned comfort food. “I hope you asked for some of Amanda Battle’s buttermilk pie.”

  Austin grinned. “I wasn’t sure what kind of dessert you preferred, so I had them include four different slices.”

  “I like a man with a plan.”

  They were flirting. It was easy and fun. Something inside her relaxed for the first time all day.

  Of course, it made sense to take Austin’s truck. It was the nicer, bigger, newer vehicle. He stepped into the diner to pick up their order, and then they were on their way. It was a perfect fall afternoon. The sky was the color of a Texas bluebonnet, and the clouds were soft white cotton balls drifting across the sky.

  Brooke was content to let Austin choose their route until it occurred to her that he didn’t live in Royal. “Do you even know where you’re going?” she asked.

  “More or less. I did a big job for Gus some years ago. It’s been a little while, but this part of the county has stayed the same.”

  They drove for miles. The radio was on but the volume was turned down, so the music barely intruded. Brooke sighed deeply. She hadn’t realized how tightly she was wound.

  Austin shot her a sideways glance. “Has your mother always been like that?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  He reached across the small space separating them and put a hand on her arm. Briefly. Just a touch of warm, masculine fingers. But the simple gesture made her nerves hum with pleasure.

  “Tell me why you came to Joplin that night,” he asked softly.

  “It was a stupid thing to do,” she muttered.

  “You don’t hear me complaining.”

  The sexy teasing made her cheeks hot. “I was furious at my parents and furious at myself. Some people might have gotten stinking drunk, but that’s not my style.”

  “So you decided to seduce a stranger.”

  “I didn’t seduce you...did I?”

  He parked the truck beneath a lone cottonwood tree and put the gear shift in Park. Half turning in his seat, he propped a big, muscular arm on the steering wheel and faced her. He chuckled, scratching his chin and shaking his head. “I don’t know what else you would call it. I came in with my sister and left with you.”

  “Oh.” When you put it like that, it made Brooke sound like the kind of woman who could command a man’s interest with a crook of her finger. That was certainly never an image she’d had of herself. She kind of liked it. “Well,” she said, “the thing is, I was upset and angry, and I let myself get carried away.”

  “Had something happened at home? Was that it? After what I witnessed today, I can only imagine.”

  “You’re very perceptive. It’s a long story. Are you sure you want to hear it?”

  He leaned over without warning and kissed her. It was a friendly kiss. Gentle. Casual. Thrilling. His lips were warm and firm. “I’ve got all night.”

  She blinked at him. He sat back in his seat as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Her toes curled in her shoes. “Well, okay, then.” It was difficult to gather her thoughts when what she really wanted to do was unbutton his shirt and see if that broad, strong chest was as wonderfully sculpted and kissable as she remembered.

  “Brooke?”

  Apparently she had lapsed into a sex-starved, befuddled stupor. “Sorry. I’ll start with Grammy, my dad’s mother. She died when I was seventeen, but she and I were soul mates. It was Grammy who first introduced me to art. In fact, when I was twelve, she took me with her to Paris, and we toured the Louvre. I remember walking through the galleries in a daze. It was the most extraordinary experience. The light the artists had captured on canvas...and all the colors. The sculptures. Something clicked for me. It was as if—for the first time in my life—I was where I was supposed to be.”

  “She must have been a very special lady.”

  “She was. I was crushed when she died, utterly heartbroken. But I made several decisions over the next few years. First, that I wanted to become an artist. And secondly, that I wanted to take part of my inheritance and tour the great art museums of Europe in Grammy’s honor.”

  “And was there more?”

  She smiled, for the moment actually believing it might happen. “Yes. Yes, there was...there is. I want to open an art studio in Royal that caters to children and youth. Families pay for piano lessons and ballet lessons and soccer and football all the time. Yet there are tons of children like me who need a creative outlet, but their parents don’t know what to do for them.”

  “I think that’s a phenomenal idea.”

  “I did, too. I even went to the bank and filled out the paperwork for a small business loan to get things started. My inheritance would serve as collateral, but I was hoping my parents would see the sense in letting me have part of the money now as an investment in my future.”

  “I’m guessing they didn’t share your vision.”

  She shook her head and swallowed against the sudden dryness in her throat. “I might have swayed my father...event
ually. But my mother was outraged, and he does whatever she tells him to. That ugly scene went down the day I showed up in Joplin.”

  “Ah. So you were trying to punish them?”

  “No. It wasn’t that. I was just so very tired of them controlling my life. I’m sure you think I’m exaggerating or overreacting, but I’m not. Did you know that my brother was engaged to be married recently? His poor fiancée, Shelby, ran away from the church, and then my parents tried to blackmail her into coming back by freezing all her assets and hunting her down like an animal.”

  “Good Lord.”

  “I know! It’s Machiavellian.”

  “Come on, darlin’,” Austin said. “We need to take your mind off your troubles. Let’s get some fresh air.”

  Brooke climbed out of the truck and stretched. Actually, she had to jump down. Being vertically challenged meant that half of the vehicles in Royal were too big for her to get in and out of comfortably.

  The thing about an impromptu picnic was that a person couldn’t be too picky. Instead of an antique quilt smelling of laundry detergent and sunshine, Austin grabbed a faded horse blanket from the back.

  “I think this is fairly clean,” he said.

  They spread the wool blanket beneath the tree and anchored one corner with the wicker basket. The diner had recently begun offering these romantic carryout meals for a small deposit.

  Austin handed her one container at a time. “Here you go. See what we’ve got.” Brooke’s stomach rumbled as the wonderful smells wafted up from the basket.

  The meal was perfect, but no more so than the late-afternoon sunshine and the ruggedly handsome man at her side. She fantasized about what it would be like to kiss him again. Really kiss him.

  Austin ate in silence. His profile was unequivocally masculine. Lounging on one elbow, he personified the Texas cowboy, right down to the Stetson.

  “Will you tell me about your wife?” Brooke asked.

  * * *

  Austin winced inwardly. He’d been expecting this question. Under the circumstances, it was a reasonable request, and nothing about Brooke’s tentative query reflected anything but concern.

  The diner was famous for its fresh-squeezed lemonade. It was served in retro-looking thermoses that kept the liquid ice-cold. Austin drained the last of his and set it aside. Wiping his hands on his jeans, he sat up and rested his forearms on his knees. “Jenny was the best. You would have liked her. She had a big heart, but she had a temper to match. When we were younger, we fought like cats and dogs.” He laughed softly, staring into the past. “But the making up was always fun.”

  “Where did you meet?”

  “College. Pretty ordinary love story. I always knew I was going to be an architect. Jenny was in education. She taught high school Spanish until she got sick.”

  “When was that?”

  “We’d been married almost five years and were living in Dallas. She had a cold one winter that never seemed to go away. We didn’t think anything about it. But it got worse, and by the time I made her go to the doctor, the news was bad. Stage-four lung cancer. She’d never smoked a day in her life. None of her family had. It was a rare cancer. Just one of those things.”

  “I’m so sorry, Austin.”

  He shook his head, even now feeling the tentacles of dread and fear left over from that time. “We went through two years of hell. The only saving grace was that we hadn’t started a family. Jenny was so glad about that. She didn’t want to leave a child behind without a mother.”

  “But what about you?” Brooke said, her gray eyes filled with an ache that was all for him. “Wouldn’t a baby have been a comfort to you?”

  He stared at her. No one had ever asked him that. Not Jenny. Not Audra. No one. Sometimes—way back then—the thought had crossed his mind. The idea of holding a baby girl who looked like Jenny—teaching her to fish when she was a little kid—had rooted deep inside him, but then the chemo started and fertility was a moot point.

  “It wouldn’t have worked out,” he said gruffly. “What did I know about babies?”

  “I suppose...”

  “In the end, Jenny was ready to go, and I was ready to let her go. There are some things no one should have to endure. She fought until there was no reason to fight anymore.” He swallowed convulsively. “When it was over, I didn’t feel much of anything for a few days. Nothing seemed real. Not the funeral. Nothing. I didn’t even have our house to go back to.”

  “What happened to your home?” she asked quietly.

  “When Jenny’s disease had progressed to the point that I couldn’t work and care for her, we sold everything and moved to Joplin. Audra and I cobbled together a schedule for looking after Jenny and filled in the gaps with temp nurses and hospice toward the end.”

  “You and your sister are close.”

  “She saved my life,” he said simply. “I don’t know what I would have done without her. I had no rudder, no reason to get out of bed in the mornings. Audra forced me into the world even when I didn’t want to go. Eventually, I started picking up work here and there. I didn’t mind traveling.”

  “But what about your career in Dallas?”

  “It had been too long. I didn’t want to go back there. But Joplin was where Jenny died, so I didn’t want to live there, either.”

  “Then you’ve bounced around?”

  He nodded slowly. “For six years. Pathetic, isn’t it?”

  Brooke scooted closer and laid her head on his shoulder. “No. I can’t imagine loving someone that much and losing them.”

  He wrapped an arm around her waist and inhaled the scent of her hair. Today it smelled like strawberries. Arousal curled in his gut, but it simmered on low, overlaid with a feeling of peace. It had taken him a long time, but he had survived the depths of despair. He would never allow himself to be that vulnerable again.

  “Brooke?” he said quietly.

  “Yes?”

  “I know you’re feeling sorry for me right now, and I don’t want to take advantage of your good nature.”

  She pulled back and looked up at him. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders, pale gold and soft as silk. A wary gray gaze searched his face. “I don’t understand.”

  “I want you.” He laid it out bluntly. There didn’t need to be any misunderstandings between them. If she was interested in a sexual liaison with him, he was definitely on board, but he wouldn’t be accused of wrapping things up in romantic words that might be misconstrued.

  Brooke frowned. “I heard you say very clearly that you weren’t interested in a relationship.”

  He rubbed his thumb across her lower lip, tugging on it ever so slightly. “Men and women have sex all the time without relationships. I like you. We have chemistry in bed. If you’re interested, I’m available.”

  Six

  Brooke stepped outside her body for a moment. At least that’s how it seemed in that split second. The scene was worthy of the finest cinema. A remote setting. Romantic accoutrements. Handsome cowboy. Erotic proposition.

  This was the part where the heroine was supposed to melt into the hero’s arms, and if it were a family-friendly film, the screen would fade to black. The trouble with that scenario was that Brooke didn’t see herself as heroine material in this picture.

  You had the leading man who was most likely still in love with his dead wife. A second woman who was far too young for him—case in point, she was having trouble extracting herself from under her parents’ oppressive influence. And a red-hot, clandestine one-night stand that had catapulted an unlikely couple way too far in one direction and not nearly far enough in another.

  Brooke knew the size and shape of the mole on Austin’s right butt cheek, but she had no idea if he put mayo on his roast beef sandwiches.

  That was a problem.

  She tasted his thumb with the tip of her ton
gue, her heart racing. How bad could it be if she had naughty daytime sex with this man? He needed her, and that was a powerful aphrodisiac.

  Putting a hand on his denim-clad thigh, she leaned in and kissed him. “I could get on board with that idea.”

  A shudder ripped its way through Austin’s body. She felt it. And she heard his ragged breathing. “Are you sure? What changed your mind?”

  She reached up and knocked his Stetson off his head. “I’m sure. I can’t resist you, Cowboy. I don’t even want to try.”

  They were parked beside a wet weather stream. The land was flat for miles in either direction. No one was going to sneak up on them.

  Austin eased her onto her back. “I need to tell you something.”

  Alarm skittered through her veins. “What is it?

  He leaned over her, his big frame blocking out the sun. “I haven’t slept with any other women since you. I was serious when I said I’m not looking for a relationship. But I didn’t want you to think you were one in a long line.”

  “Thank you for telling me that.”

  She couldn’t decide if his little speech made her feel better or worse, but soon, she forgot to worry about it. Austin dispatched her clothes with impressive speed and prowess. The air was cool on her belly and thighs. When she complained, he only laughed.

  He sheathed himself, came down between her legs and thrust slowly. Oh, man. She was in deep trouble.

  Austin Bradshaw was the real deal. He kissed her and stroked her and moved inside her as if she were his last chance at happiness and maybe the world was even coming to an end. That was heady stuff for a woman whose only real boyfriend had lasted barely six months...during senior year in college.

  She wrapped her legs around his back. Her fingers flexed on his warm shoulders. He had shed his shirt and his pants, but he was still wearing socks. For some odd reason, that struck her as wildly sexy.

  Sex had never seemed all that special to her. Oh, sure, she thought about it sometimes. When she was lonely or bored or reading a hot book. But her life was full and busy, and the only experience she’d had up until two months ago had convinced her that the movie version of sex was not realistic.